


Molly Hooper And The Very Interesting And Quite Awkward First Day At Barts

by afteriwake



Series: nongentorum [42]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Awkward Molly, Awkwardness, F/M, First Day At Work, First Meetings, Molly Has A Crush, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, POV Molly Hooper, Poor Molly, Sherlock Being Considerate, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Being an Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper has quite the interesting (and rather awkward) first day at her new post, and walks away with an unexpected crush to boot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Molly Hooper And The Very Interesting And Quite Awkward First Day At Barts

**Author's Note:**

> So when I _first_ started this series, **kendrapendragon** asked for a Sherlolly fic with the sentence “ _Sorry! I didn’t mean to touch your butt._ ” as one of the prompts for me to write, and I just got around to it for Day 1 of Molly Hooper Appreciation Week (A Day In The Life). I made one tiny change to the starter sentence, substituting "arse" for "butt," but otherwise it's the same! Hope you enjoy.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to touch your arse.”

She squeaked out the words as she felt her cheeks turn bright red. Oh, what a horrible impression to make on such a handsome man, to just walk straight into him and lay her hands on his backside. He’d turned around and glared and she’d felt even worse, wanting to shrink down nine hundred sizes and become microscopic and just disappear off the face of the earth. “Next time, watch where you’re going,” he said coldly.

She nodded, scurrying around him to head towards the lift to get to the morgue. First day at Barts and already she was making a fool of herself. Wonderful. She’d hoped her days of embarrassing incidents were behind her after her rather illustrious history of them at Cambridge Teaching Hospital but oh no, it apparently followed her here too. She ducked into the lift and pressed the doors closed button, hoping for some measure of privacy and almost getting it when a hand blocked the door and she looked up to see the same man coming onto the service lift. She gave him a peculiar look. “Going to the morgue?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said in a clipped tone.

“Oh,” she said. “Why?”

“I need autopsy results,” he said, as if a child should have known that.

“Are you a detective inspector?” she asked.

This time, he turned to her and gave her an intense glare and she shrunk back slightly. “And just who are you to be inquiring?” he asked.

“Doctor...Doctor Molly Hooper,” she said. “I’m the new specialist registrar.”

“Sherlock Holmes,” he said, pulling out an ID and flashing it at her. She looked at it, catching a glimpse, but in that glimpse, she could clearly see the ID did _not_ say Holmes. It said “Lestrade.”

The doors of the lift almost closed but Molly pressed the doors open button. “I’m afraid I won’t be giving you any results, Mr. Holmes,” she said.

“I showed you my ID,” he replied.

“You showed me someone named Lestrade’s ID,” she said. “You say your name is Holmes. That’s not your ID. When Lestrade shows up, he can get the results with _his_ ID.”

She expected him to yell, but the corner of his mouth edged up slightly. “That fooled Flaversham and Simmons the first time. You’re more than mediocre, Dr. Hooper.”

“Flattery may get you a lot, Mr. Holmes, but it won’t get you those results,” she said, her finger firmly on the door open button. “I prefer to work in peace so good day.”

He nodded towards her slightly. “I’ll see you soon,” he replied, stepping out of the lift. Once he was clear, she let go of the button and then let go of the breath she’d been holding in, realizing she was shaking slightly. She was usually not so assertive, especially with someone so overtly hostile. What had she been thinking? She had no idea who this Sherlock Holmes was! He could be someone quite important and she had more or less just sassed him. But he had seemed amused at the end so maybe she was in his good graces? She didn’t know.

She made her way to the morgue and began to go about her day, and was not surprised to see three hours later Sherlock Holmes accompanied by a greying man who looked rather perturbed at having his ID nicked. He was apologetic that his consultant, as he had called Sherlock, had been an arse, but he was polite and asked for the results and asked if Sherlock could be privy to any results he might need in the future without him having to be dragged down there. She said she’s run it by her bosses but really, she didn’t need to. The fact he had actually gone and gotten DI Lestrade had told her quite a lot about the man.

When she was done Lestrade left but Sherlock lingered. She was putting the body away so at first she wasn’t aware, but then she stopped and realized she wasn’t alone in the morgue. It was a strange feeling. “Can I help you with anything else?” she asked.

“You’re quite different than the other specialist registrars who’ve been through here,” he said.

“Oh?” she said.

“They’ve been incompetent arses. You, on the other hand, are quite competent. I think that’s one of your redeeming qualities.”

She felt herself grow warm at the rather ill-worded compliment. “Um...thank you, I suppose.”

“I think we’ll be seeing much more of each other, Dr. Hooper. I find myself almost looking forward to it.” He gave her a nod as he adjusted his gloves and then strode out of her morgue like he owned the place. She watched in utter fascination, admiring the backside that only hours before she’d managed to lay her hands on. And then it hit her: she was going to give him access to the autopsy reports. She was going to give him access to anything he asked of her, really, within reason.

And why?

Because she’d just developed a crush on Sherlock Holmes, that’s why.

She groaned and hung her head for a moment before going back to work. Oh, this was the _last_ thing she needed right now, it really was, but it had happened, and she just had to deal with it the best she could.


End file.
